You're going to LOVE my All American Father!!!

Out in April, the thrid book in Super's new Single...With Kids continuity, All American Father is turning out to be my new favorite of my books (I know, BIG suprise;O).

But, really, Derrick and Bailey are so much fun to watch together, and I still get to sink my teeth into some meatier topics as Bailey fights to save her family business for her grandmother, and Derrick tries to handle unexpected single fatherhood, as well as a rebellious-because-she-can-be pre-teen. Did I mention Derrick is an ex-college football star??? Very drool worthy!!!

So, here's the next scene (scroll down for my first excerpt on July 19th). Hope you see what I see--two great characters with tons of conflict to keep us entertained for well over 300 pages ;O)

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Chapter Two

Shrugging off the admiring glances of women was nothing new. Derrick was a large man who still enjoyed the even larger public persona that had come with being a college football all-star with washed-up pro prospects. Even after the near-crippling back injury that ended his NFL dreams, he was still noticed too often for comfort.

While married to Amanda, reciprocating random female attention had never tempted him. Since his divorce from the perfect wife who'd punked him for his fully-functioning, pro-quarterback friend, Rodney Canton, life had simply become too raw for him to give a damn.

Until today.

The pixie-like woman sitting behind the shabby desk had devoured him with her eyes before he'd even made it through the door. Then she'd whispered his name in a husky timber the went straight to his head. Out-of-control hair, a heart-shaped face completely devoid of make up, she'd looked both familiar and different at the same time. Though different from what was anyone's guess, since he couldn't remember where they'd met.

He'd bet his next bonus she wouldn't make five-two stick with heels on. His tastes had always veered toward leggy blondes with killer legs and mischief in their eyes. The woman now looking everywhere but at him had the air of someone too harried to give mischief a second glance.

"Dad!" Leslie's mortified, you-are-such-a-loser face was firmly in place as she glanced back and forth between him and the stranger he was gaping at.

Embarrassed, sinking into the agony of watching his oldest child spiral into a dark place he couldn't protect her from, he held nothing back from his glower.

"Get your butt in the car." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "The shop owner's pressing charges, but the cop said you're sprung until your hearing. Do yourself a favor and work up the necessary enthusiasm to say your sorry on the way out the door."

Before a year ago, he'd never said anything harsher than boo to his children. They'd been daddy's girls from birth. So eager to please, just like Amanda. He'd eaten up every smile and I love you, Daddy, not for a second realizing how elusive that kind of adoration could be--in both daughters and wives.

"I already said I'm sorry," Leslie mumbled. "An hour ago, when that cop called you."

Her scowl trembled, but she tightened up that traitorous lower lip that turned Derrick's heart to mush every time she fought not to cry. Staring at the scuffed boots she'd shown up in a week ago with no explanation where they'd come from, she slipped out of the office like a shadow of the good kid he knew still lurked inside.

"She's crying out for attention," the woman behind him said.

"Excuse me?" Her blatant admiration was gone, judgement and disapproval taking their turn.
She stepped around the desk. "The longer you took to get here, the more belligerent she's gotten."

"Traffic over the bridge was a bitch, not that it's any of your business."

Bailey, or so her name badge read, twirled a curl of soft brown hair between nervous fingers. She started to speak, stopped, then shrugged as if to say, what the hell.

"Your daughter's getting in over head for girl her age." She met his gaze dead-on, which took guts considering he was ready to explode and his expression no doubt showed it. "Stealing is bad
enough, but--"

"I'm a lawyer. I don't need a by-the-hour, convenience store clerk to tell me that shop-lifting is a serious offense. I just got an earful from your boss."

"Did he bother to mention what she took?" her eyes narrowed.

"No, not that it matters. Stealing is stealing."

"Not if you're a twelve-year-old girl." She reached back to the desk for her purse and a familiar-shaped box. "You don't remember me, Derrick, but you seemed like a pretty good guy in high school. When you find the time in your busy schedule, you or your wife might want to have a talk with your daughter about birth control."

He stared down at the twelve-pack of condoms. His mouth opened to fire a dozen questions at the departing Bailey, but he couldn't find the words.

His baby girl was apparently flirting with the idea of being sexually active, and the sassy clerk at the Shop Right, the crotchety owner and Detective Oaks had known before he had.